SOMETIMES

Son-in-law Mike broke his ankle in three places Sunday night when he took his old dog Mickey out for his mid-night (1:30 A.M.) constitutional. Mickey, a Boston Bull Terrior, is blind, so he must be escorted outside. Mike slipped on the fresh ice and slid down the steps onto the sidewalk. The rescue squad arrived soon after, bundled the patient up, and took off for the hospital, which is about 15 miles from home.

The hospital Emergency Room was swamped with patients, about 70 waiting at one time. Entry into the treatment room is of course expedited when brought into the bay by ambulance, but in this instance the treatment rooms were  occupied, and adjascent hallways were filled with waiting patients. 

All previously scheduled elective surgical procedures had been cancelled, or postponed, because of the influx of patients with COVID-19  symptoms.   So Mike’s surgery was scheduled for today, and as of this writing has been successfully completed and he will be home in a few hours.

Is there such a word as “whelmed?” Well of course there is…a quick peek at the definition of the word led me to look it up with the search word “whelm.”

whelm[(h)welm]VERBwhelmed (past tense) · whelmed (past participle)engulf, submerge, or bury (someone or something).”a swimmer whelmed in a raging storm”synonyms:befall · happen to · come upon · hit · strike · fall on · overwhelm · overpower · overcome · be visited on · engulf · sweep over · take by surprise · surprise · catch unawares · catch unprepared · catch off guard · betideflow or heap up abundantly.”the brook whelmed up from its source”

…so, yeah… checking the etymology has influenced me to add the word “whelm” to my vocabulary.

But I digress… I set out a few minutes ago to unburden myself for having been “over-whelmed” by searching through my storage room to try to sort out the things stored there to decide the appropriate disposition of my “stash.” Books, the ubiquitous multitude that actually is “whelming” to me. Over-whelmed is a bit strong, as (so far) I have managed to emerge more or less unscathed when venturing into one of my book areas…where even my cats are hesitant to enter alone. (Technically they aren’t allowed in there anyway.)

The particular room I am referring to right now was once the master bedroom. It is the storehouse for much of my listed inventory of books for sale, also books that are “my own,” which means they are titles that are in my personal library and not necessarily for sale at this time, and dolls and dollhouse everythings listed on my ebay store.

Several years ago I had space indoors at a giant Flea Market, and maintained both Books and Dollhouse shops. While building my book inventory I acquired books from numerous sources, noteably the life-long collection of a woman who was a retired elementary school principle and teacher. Her husband was also an educator, and between them they had an enormous collection of books. I paid a good price for the collection, and have recouped much of it in sales through various online book venues.

The Flea Market shops, and another antique shop store that I had, didn’t amount to much in the way of sales. So when I decided to get out of the flea market business I moved all the merchandise, books, dollhouse stuff, “much miscellaneous” as the garage sale ads always say, back to my house.

So now I am pretty much whelmed…not really over-whelmed yet, just enough to make my children nervous about someday having to dispose of the “stuff.”

Yesterday I bought a sewing machine. It was just about $60.00 at Aldi’s. All of the parts are present, the light works, the threading sequence is the same one I have known forever on sewing machines. Next I will sit down and sew something. I have great faith that it will work well. I am nervous about it though…there are such nagging issues with sewing machines. Every one I ever had suffered issues with the tension.

I have been sewing since I was about ten years old, and forced to take Home Economics. I will say that I learned to sew, after a fashion. I sewed all of my clothing (well, except coats and really advanced items like that,) and most of my oldest daughter’s clothes until she was about ten years old, and started to make her own clothes. She is not quite five feet tall, and when the big bell-bottom pants came into vogue they were always too long, and the bell effect would have been lost in hemming. So she cut the pattern of the pant leg in a deep V shape, and pieced it together. That worked very well.

Hope the new sewing machine works adequately.

Two years ago when we started making masks because of the Covid19.I used my current most recent sewing machine, which had never really worked well. Having said that, in the interest of being fair, I must admit that I was involved in making wedding dresses for my granddaughter’s wedding, involving volumes of satin in luscious colors: purple and orange, and green. Dau1 sewed THE wedding dress itself, yards of white satin and lace…it turned out lovely.

So, hoping the new sewing machine will not to be a big hassle to thread, always an issue due to my eyesight. The threading process is always challenging in any sewing project, even with a needle-threader. Oh—and the bobbin~ I used to hate bobbins, but we have come to have a working arrangement. Speaking of bobbins, I bought a lovely old Singer cabinet-model sewing machine at an auction, for $7..The spiffy cabinet drawers hold every sew machine gadget every made, that I know about anyway. However…the bobbin case is damaged, or at least it isn’t working at all. It will accept the thread from the top, and go down through the bobbin case and act like it is going to engage and bring the bobbin thread up in tandem with the main needle–but it doesn’t work! It won’t thread, and the thingamajig on the bottom that pulls the thread through is not working. We took it apart, but no avail.

What I want to sew now is some pillows. I have pillow forms waiting to be covered, and some nice colorful fabric remnants from Pat Catan’s while they were going out of business and selling stuff really, really low cost. They had beads at buy one get ten free…at the end. Plus all sorts of sewing notions and beading supplies. At these great give-away prices who can resist? I have millions of beads (well, maybe not millions, but a lot. So when I started beading here a couple of months ago I gathered up all my seed beads and found some needles that worked…and went out and bought some more seed beads. Actually ordered them from Fire Mountain catalog on line.

Another order is pending though, because although I now have four shades of turquoise color beads, and a really nice selection of metallic-like colors, especially copper color. All I have is some weird green shades, and only two Reds. I use the size 11 Delica beads.

I have a variety of little amulet bags that I have finished, except for the straps and/or handles. I haven’t decided yet to add chain straps, or those satiny cords. Unfortunately I only know the Peyote Stitch, and I have been concentrating on that, trying to perfect my technique. There are some nice geometric shapes that I’d like to make, but so far the patterns are beyond my ability. I always like to make the stitching perfect, and that works as long as I don’t try anything fancy, like create a design. The intricate red and white pattern I’ve been working on is tricky because its hard to figure out where the red beads enter the white to form the pattern. My late husband used to say well, you can figure it out, you have a masters’ degree. Yep, but it isn’t in beading!

oh, and then there’s the book project! You don’t even want to hear about that, I’ll be here all night.

Jeannie C. Riley

I wanna tell you all the story bout the Harper Valley widow’s wife
Who had a teenage daughter who attended Harper Valley Junior High
Well her daughter came home one afternoon and didn’t even stop to play
And she said mom I got a note here from the Harper Valley PTA
Well the note said Mrs. Johnson
You’re wearin’ your dresses way too high
It’s reported you’ve been drinkin’ and
A runnin’ round with men and goin’ wild
And we don’t believe you oughta be a
Bringin’ up your little girl this way
And it was signed by the secretary Harper Valley PTA
Well it happened that the PTA was gonna meet that very afternoon
And they were sure surprised when Mrs.Johnson
Wore her miniskirt into the room
And as she walked up to the blackboard I can still recall
The words she had to say
She said I’d like to address this meeting of the Harper Valley PTA
Well there’s Bobby Taylor sittin’
There and seven times he asked me for a date
And Mrs. Taylor sure seems to use a lotta ice whenever he’s away
And Mr. Baker can you tell us why
Your secretary had to leave this town
And shouldn’t widow Jones be told to keep
Her window shades all pulled completely down
Well Mr. Harper couldn’t be here cause
He stayed too long at Kelly’s Bar again
And if you smell Shirley Thompson’s
Breath you’ll find she’s had a little nip of gin
And THEN you have the nerve to tell me
You think that as a mother I’m not fit
Well this is just a little Peyton Place
And you’re all Harper Valley hypocrites
No I wouldn’t put you on because it
Really did it happened just this way
The day my mama socked it to the Harper Valley PTA
The day my mama socked it to the Harper Valley PTASongwriters: Hall, Clement, WooleyFor non-commercial use only.Data from: MusixmatchFeedback

Jeannie C. Riley – Harper 

My mind is full of ideas, so many things to do that I’ll never get half of them done. Go through stuff. Throw stuff away. Give Stuff to the Goodwill. Will stuff to the kids.

Never once have I ever passed on an item that I like…or want…hardly ever need. My collection includes ugly obviously handmade amateur pottery items. Why would anyone make a pottery vase shaped like a fire hydrant? And then as if the shape alone wasn’t bad enough, they painted it with tempura paint, the kind that never, ever shines…just sits there and looks, well, dull. Why does a fire hydrant have to be red? Isn’t it ok if the appliance was yellow? A vivid, canary yellow…not buttercup yellow…or yellow ochre. What the heck is “ochre” any way? Is it anthing like mauve? The word Mauve always reminds me of skinny old neighbor ladies who wear thick shoes. But once that sort-of-yellow fire hydrant vase…ok, I guess it IS more of a planter, you know, one of those things that a person puts a little offshoot of a plant into, taking a pretty looking cut of a end of a trailing plant that accidentally broke off…it has to be shoved into some kind of a Plant medium…why is it medium? Then water it for a few days, and as long as it stays looking sort of green-ish and the leaves don’t curl. Once the cutting is obviously dead, let it set for a few days then throw it out. Then there’s the problem of what to do with the fire hydrant pot with the dirt in it. Oh sure, the cat got into the plant…the cat probably killed the little sprig of a plant anyway…and it is more than likely that the cat is the one that digs dirt out of the pot and scatters it around on the floor.

Speaking of the cat. Or more accurately The Cat. Why do cats stare at you blankly as you discuss the mess on the floor, apparently staring at you as you scold the cat in what you hope is a disappointed voice, aimed at shaming the cat and appealing to its sense of regret. The Cat will gaze into your eyes for awhile, then her eyes shift ever so slightly in a sort of “glaze over” view. Then it will yawn and go somewhere to take a nap.

There are more stanzas to this post…but the appeal of throwing the planter away, or giving it to the Goodwill…who already has seven identical planters on its shelves. Or throwing it away…but then as you dig through the trash retrieving the yellowish planter when you remember that your mother-in-law had wrapped it in such nice gift wrap that time. Or give it to one of your kids…or even better, will it to them. They will be obligated to keep the thing indefinitely, shuffling it to the back of the shelf, or buried in the chest with other keepsakes…to be willed to their kid, and so on through the ages.

Don’t forget that when you do present the heirloom to the child…do it with as much fanfare as possible. You hate to get rid of…or, pass it on to the next generation…saying something like: I have always loved this fire hydrant planter…I’ve had it for years,, your grandmother inherited it from her mother, treasured and babied the thing throughout the years, finally gave it to me… and now—it’s YOURS!

just in case anyone missed this great cat show!

https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/video-cats-watching-dominos-fall-165339032.html